Seeing Is Believing
by karaokegal
Summary: Fic written for Merry Month of Masturbation 2008. Posted to LJ on May 11, 2008. Involves masturbation and telepathy and angst. Beta by hllangel. Summary: Matt learns something new about his gift.


He wasn't sure he'd ever get used to it. The feeling of being inside someone else's head, listening to their thoughts was still pretty creepy, even when he was using it to save lives. It was even worse when there was no greater purpose and he stumbled in by accident only to find he couldn't leave.

Matt was positive he'd had no intention of invading Mohinder's privacy. There was little enough of that in the apartment, especially with their adorable, inquisitive charge running around. He'd thrown himself into protecting that girl so fiercely that Janice and his previous life were memories that barely touched him any more. No one did, not even himself. It would hardly do for Molly to wake up from one of her nightmares and walk in on _that._

Apparently Mohinder wasn't quite so concerned. He had the bedroom, so presumably he'd locked the door. Matt had been lying on the pull-out bed in the living room, listening to make sure everything was quiet, when he accidentally tuned in on Mohinder's thoughts. He shook his head as he realized what was happening, but opened his eyes in shock as the image in the other man's mind became clearer and turned out to be Matt's face, Matt's body, Matt's _naked_ body. A rather flattering version of it, actually. He hadn't been in that kind of shape since the academy.

His first reaction was pretty much revulsion. He wasn't proud of it, had nothing against those people personally, but his upbringing, his training with LAPD, his gut instincts, said "No, this is wrong," followed by a loud, "Ewwwww."

_Matt, I've wanted this for so long._

Really? Him? The same guy Janice had been so willing to betray and then walk out on when things got rough, taking his heart and the better part of his self-esteem with her.

Even though Matt could swear on any holy book you put in front of him that he'd never even considered having sex with a man, there was an odd warmth to be found by knowing that someone still found him desirable as something more than a guinea pig or means to an end.

Suddenly, it didn't matter as much that he was seeing these thoughts in a man's mind. He'd been through so much crazy shit in the last year that the idea was considerably less disturbing than it might have been before he'd rescued Molly and had his life turned upside down. If people could fly, regenerate, bend time, and yeah, read minds, was it really such a big deal if a man wanted to rest his head on Matt's chest, slide a hand down his torso and _holy shit_ grasp his dick in warm, dark fingers?

Did Mohinder have to have such a detailed, vivid (if somewhat deluded) imagination?

Molly's impressionable psyche was forgotten as Matt found himself responding to Mohinder's fantasy as though it was his own, as if he'd been waiting all these months to feel those hands on him, see those beautiful eyes stare at him with a combination of admiration and lust, and then feel a mouth on his dick, a man's mouth that seemed to have some experience in the matter.

Jesus Christ.

Mohinder was taking his time and Matt started mentally encouraging him to speed things up, although he had to admit the picture of a hand lingering in the dark curly hair held more power than he would have thought possible. It wasn't just the eroticism of Mohinder's fantasies that drove Matt to find his own cock and squeeze. Mohinder had more in mind than just sex, although he certainly had some detailed ideas about that. As far as Matt could tell, he really cared. Having Matt around made him feel safe.

The combination of lust and devotion was irresistible, reminding him of the good times with Janice, when he'd barely be through the door before they were on the couch, another dinner burning in the oven.

He could see, feel, whatever it was, Mohinder, speeding up, pushing his fantasy into high-gear. Matt felt himself stiffen, throb. His cock begging for this to finish, even while he struggled to keep himself from making any sound that would expose his mental eavesdropping.

_Matt, please. Please. Please._

What did Mohinder want? For "fantasy" Matt to come in his mouth or for the real one to walk through the door and make it a reality? Matt knew he would never let that happen. Bad enough that _this_ was happening. He was getting off thinking of a man. The NYPD shrinks would definitely not approve. And then he got a new, disturbing, frightenly hot jolt. It turned out Mohinder had a submissive kink, as the fantasy now featured Matt holding his head down, making him gag, forcing him to swallow.

Matt was overwhelmed with the power the image had and he felt Mohinder's orgasm in his brain followed a few seconds later by the one that spasmed through his own body. It was like sex in stereo. Double your pleasure, double your fun.

He let out a long breath through his nose, still trying not to make any suspicious sounds. Something between a laugh and a gasp came out and if anyone asked he'd tell them it was something the Chief had said at work that day and he'd make up some lame joke.

No further thoughts came from the bedroom. Mohinder must have put himself to sleep without noticing that he'd given Matt a dirty thrill as well.

Some household they were. Some gift he had.

At least he was learning to live with it.


End file.
